CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Scene three Act one
(Scene) A broadshouldered room containing hugh fireplace facing a large big windy, a giantsize desk is covered in all type of many business paper and great disorder to look on. There are three or four or five chairs faceing the desk. One are occupied by a scruddy working clog, cap in hook what is gesticulated greatly but humble toward a big fat catipalyst boss. A white man carefully puts coal on the fire and steps back toward a giant door which seems to lead somewhere else. A cat smarting in the corner by the fire leaps up and smiles all on the carpet. A photy of Fieldimarcher Loud Montgammery solving a prodlem looks down on the two men, each of them looking up at it trying to place him.
A dog is quietly gnawing at a pigmy under the giant desk. The time is half past three on the old grandbladder clock by the windy.
Fatty: 'It's harf parst three Taddpill, and the men haven't done a strike. Why can't we settle this here and now without resorting to a long union discussion and going through all that bit about your father.'
Scruddy: 'Why don't yer shut yer gob yer big fat get or I'll kick yer face in. Yer all the same you rich fat Bourgies, workin' uz poor workers to death and getting all the gelt and going to France for yer 'olidays.'
Fatty: (going all red and ashen) 'But listen Taddpill you're only working two hours a day now, and three days a week and we're losing money as it is, and here you are complaining again about screw screwing and I'm trying to help you. We could have built our factory somewhere else where men like to work, but Ho no here we are governmentsponsored and all that.'
Scruddy: 'Why don't yer shut yer gob yer big fat get or I'll kick yer face in. Yer all the same you rich fat Bourgies, workin' uz poor workers to death and getting all the gelt and going to France for yer 'olidays.'
(Enter a coloured woman singing a coloured song, On her back is a great bundle.)
Mammy: 'Pope dat barge, left that bail' (She unloads her bundle on the right of the desk.)
Fatty: (Impatiently) 'What is it Mammy, can't you see I'm haveing a prodlem with Taddpill and you come in here all black and sing ing? And get that bundle of ruddish away from my big desk!'
Mammy: 'O.K. Kimu sahib bwana, ma**a' (she lifts the bundle and eats it) 'Sho' was naice'
Fatty: 'Anyway what was it mammy?'
Mammy: 'Dat was yo' little daughter, by yo secind wife KIMU SAHIB'
Fatty: (colouring) 'But I'm not married, old Mammy' (Mammy clasps her hands to her head horryfried) 'Oh Lord, I've jes' eaten a b*st*rd!'
(She runs round the room crossing herself, and singing another verse. Scruddy stands up replaceing his cap firmly on his head - walking toward the door he half turns like in the films and shakes his fist.)
'Get this black woman out of this factory before the men find out, or yer'll 'ave a strike on yer fat Bourgie 'ands. I'm tellin yer that for nothin' yer old bum!'
(Scruddy walks out of the room leaving Fatty - Mammy and fourteen little Jewish children all singing together a kind of hymn.)
THE END
A dog is quietly gnawing at a pigmy under the giant desk. The time is half past three on the old grandbladder clock by the windy.
Fatty: 'It's harf parst three Taddpill, and the men haven't done a strike. Why can't we settle this here and now without resorting to a long union discussion and going through all that bit about your father.'
Scruddy: 'Why don't yer shut yer gob yer big fat get or I'll kick yer face in. Yer all the same you rich fat Bourgies, workin' uz poor workers to death and getting all the gelt and going to France for yer 'olidays.'
Fatty: (going all red and ashen) 'But listen Taddpill you're only working two hours a day now, and three days a week and we're losing money as it is, and here you are complaining again about screw screwing and I'm trying to help you. We could have built our factory somewhere else where men like to work, but Ho no here we are governmentsponsored and all that.'
Scruddy: 'Why don't yer shut yer gob yer big fat get or I'll kick yer face in. Yer all the same you rich fat Bourgies, workin' uz poor workers to death and getting all the gelt and going to France for yer 'olidays.'
(Enter a coloured woman singing a coloured song, On her back is a great bundle.)
Mammy: 'Pope dat barge, left that bail' (She unloads her bundle on the right of the desk.)
Fatty: (Impatiently) 'What is it Mammy, can't you see I'm haveing a prodlem with Taddpill and you come in here all black and sing ing? And get that bundle of ruddish away from my big desk!'
Mammy: 'O.K. Kimu sahib bwana, ma**a' (she lifts the bundle and eats it) 'Sho' was naice'
Fatty: 'Anyway what was it mammy?'
Mammy: 'Dat was yo' little daughter, by yo secind wife KIMU SAHIB'
Fatty: (colouring) 'But I'm not married, old Mammy' (Mammy clasps her hands to her head horryfried) 'Oh Lord, I've jes' eaten a b*st*rd!'
(She runs round the room crossing herself, and singing another verse. Scruddy stands up replaceing his cap firmly on his head - walking toward the door he half turns like in the films and shakes his fist.)
'Get this black woman out of this factory before the men find out, or yer'll 'ave a strike on yer fat Bourgie 'ands. I'm tellin yer that for nothin' yer old bum!'
(Scruddy walks out of the room leaving Fatty - Mammy and fourteen little Jewish children all singing together a kind of hymn.)
THE END
